Return of the Jedi, Or, "Skiing, Sharing, Learning from a Certain Point of View

"Not such a long time ago, in a galaxy not too far, far away..."

Cue the booming fanfare and familiar marching lines of golden text receding into the infinite distance of space. Why an intro of such galactic proportions? Keep reading, oh adventure seekers, as I tell you the tale of the epic journey that changed me and my life forever!

On the morning of January 21, I awoke, unsure whether I could embark on the SFL ski trip for which I'd been planning and prepping for more than a month. As if my nerves weren't already frayed enough, the dawn of my planned departure saw me shakily recovering from quite the battle with a bout of the 48-hour flu, and I just didn't know whether I had it in me to leave the house, let alone to head off into uncharted territory.

Actually, the tough times started long before that morning: The past two years had been hell. I'd lost my dad quite suddenly in early 2016, and my 16-year old service dog less than three weeks afterward. Then, just a short nine months later, my Mom and I had to move from the area where I'd lived all my life; so, the prospect of doing something this bold and different, save meeting up with one of my childhood BFF's, Andrea Goddard, was overwhelming, to say the least! Andrea's impassioned entreaties to join SFL had peppered our conversations since 2010, and she convinced me that this would finally be the year for me to take this giant leap of faith.

Having lived a pretty sheltered life, I'd never really done much independently or without the presence of at least one of my family members; hence, getting to the airport, boarding the plane for what was to be only about my third solo airline flight ever, arriving at the Nugget, & the entire rest of the to-do of getting there made me feel very much like a young Padawan Jedi trainee boarding a starship bound for parts unknown. All this physical, mental and emotional overload, coupled with what I thought was a major ski wardrobe malfunction that first morning, nearly had me heading home and calling it quits before I ever even hit the trails, but thank goodness, I decided to stick around.

I got out there on my sit ski with my guide, Scott Bertrand, and the rest as they say, is history. By the end of that first day, my outlook had shifted, and everything in me did a complete 180.

Andrea and her guide, David Fisichella, skied with us the whole week, and I skied my tail off, never imagining I'd do so much my first time out. Of course, there were some tough spots, owing to the iffy snow conditions early in the week, and to my being a total novice. To further complicate things, I needed near-constant help shifting into a better position in my sit ski. I fell at least a couple of times every single day. And even my poor 30-year veteran expert guide and co- pilot, Scott, was not immune to the pain and the sting of embarrassment upon taking a few crashes into the back of my ski, as well as to falling prey to a couple of spills, himself. (Han Solo and Luke Skywalker never had stuff like this happen). But then came Saturday: On that one glorious day, neither guide nor skier had a single fall between us! The smooth descents of the hills, with the wind whispering and singing all around me, had all the thrill and freedom of jetting over the frozen landscape of the ice planet Hoth in a snowspeeder, as in the "Empire Strikes Back." Pod racing had nothing on this rush. It was like no other! There's no better, cooler, or more incredible way I could have hoped to end a positively phenomenal week! During those exhilarating moments, I felt like I could have taken on the whole Empire, myself!

I shared tons of love and laughs with Andrea (my roommate and friend of 25 years), with her dog O'Shea, and with a big handful of new friends. And I learned a ton, not just about skiing, but about myself, life, love, people, and so much more! I am usually fairly shy and reserved (professing myself to be somewhat socially awkward), but you'd have a hard time guessing it from a lot that happened during my initiation into this great, big, amazing family! Thanks to some sage and gentle, but insistent encouragement from my guide, Scott, and from a handful of various partners, I learned I could tear it up at blurring speed on the dance floor along with everyone else, just like I could out on the trails, even though I had never really danced before, and might have looked as awkward and ungainly as C-3PO on wheels. I also discovered the totally unexpected and little-known phenomenon of getting into a snowball fight with a tree! (Thanks so much for that, Jedi Master Bertrand, LOL!!!)

I finally now know for myself what people mean when they say that, "family isn't just the one you're born into: It is also the one you choose."

I made some real strides in coming out of the shell that has been my life and world until now, and I feel I have gotten a lot better at asking for a hand when I really need it. I learned that my voice is like my light saber, the tool that will illuminate and guide my way as I navigate interactions with others. By using it to get a little help, I found that I can participate in and really live life much more actively than I ever thought possible. Also, being able to share such an amazing experience with Andrea, one that she's known about and has been telling me all along is so unforgettable. Well, there's no better way to say this: It's been absolutely awesome! Snow Mountain Ranch and 2019 can't come soon enough.

Before SFL, I was someone who never really could see a whole lot happening for myself beyond the day-to-day, small world that has always been my reality. What with all the challenges and heartache that had come to dominate my life and to cloud my outlook, I hadn't really been able to find much of anything capable of rekindling a light of happiness and hope; yet, this whole experience has really started to shift, to brighten, and to stir something deep inside me.

The Jedi teaching here is that the hard times in life are like skiing up a hill out on the trail: It may be that you're fighting against the odds to crest the summit of what feels like an Everest-worthy climb, with a chill gale howling in your face and trying to push you inexorably back the way you came. You might not be able to see the top, but you do know it's there somewhere. And, if you just keep pushing all the way through, if you just keep pushing and don't give up, eventually you'll hit that summit. Then, with a little luck, it should just be sweet, smooth sailing down to the bottom, where, you hope, something better and brighter is waiting for you. That has really begun to bring home General Han Solo's words from the "Empire Strikes Back," "Never tell me the odds!" Also, there are the words of Jedi Master Yoda, "Do or do not. There is no try."

And, if you're lucky, you'll have a solid, expert co-pilot who will have your back, as I did.

SFL is like a place that trains new Jedi Knights. A place where the Force is alive and strong: It surrounds and penetrates us. It binds us all together.

During this past incredible ski week that really did have all the wisdom and adventure of a "Star Wars" epic; I lived out our organization's namesake: I Skied For Light!

Thanks to this spirited, resilient, and loving group of new friends, I have come to know something I wasn't sure I'd be able to feel or to say ever again: This Jedi has returned, and the Force is definitely with me!